


Together

by The_Unf0rgiven



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 4x08, Episode Related, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:57:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1299079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Unf0rgiven/pseuds/The_Unf0rgiven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So, did you meet last night or are you together?" </p><p>Ian slammed his eyes closed again. He tried to regulate his breathing, feigning sleep. It was far too early and he was far to hungover to separate a fight. That's what this conversation would inevitably lead to. Brain had just outed Mickey without even thinking about it. It was going to end in tears, presumably even an ER visit for Brain. Ian just hoped someone else was there to split it up before Mickey got too violent. He always got too violent. It was probably because of the whole gay denial thing he had going on, it made him more aggressive sometimes, more - </p><p>"Together".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Gallavich fic.  
> They're literally the only cannon couple I ship :)
> 
> Episode compliant for 4x08, this is what I imagine happened after Mickey told Brian he and Ian were together.
> 
> Obviously I don't own the characters, if I did, there'd be so much more Gallavich!
> 
> Enjoy :)
> 
> I have tumblr btw, @thatsacommonmisconception if anyone wants to follow me, it's pretty much Shameless and Teen Wolf (:

His head was crumbling. Like tiny little monkeys were inside his brain with little sledge hammers, slowly chipping away, causing him the most excruciating pain. He tried to open his eyes, but it felt like they were on fire, searing pain coursing through his hemispheres and burning his retinas. This was going to be the hangover from hell. 

Giving up, he embraced the darkness behind his eyelids, silently praying to every god imaginable for 2 aspirin and a glass of water. He could probably drink the pacific right now. Easily. No one would even stop him. You don't test the cognitive functions of a hungover man. You just don't mess with that shit. The thought of moving made him whimper quietly and the body next to him stirred slightly, dragging him back to consciousness.

"So, did you meet last night or are you together?" 

Ian slammed his eyes closed again. He tried to regulate his breathing, feigning sleep. It was far too early and he was far to hungover to separate a fight. That's what this conversation would inevitably lead to. Brain had just outed Mickey without even thinking about it. It was going to end in tears, presumably even an ER visit for Brain. Ian just hoped someone else was there to split it up before Mickey got too violent. He always got too violent. It was probably because of the whole gay denial thing he had going on, it made him more aggressive sometimes, more - 

"Together".

What. The. Fuck.

Ian knew he couldn't be hearing right, he fucking knew it. Mickey wouldn't admit that he was, or ever had been, in any kind of relationship with Ian to Ian, never mind to a complete stranger. Clearly, this was a dream, a painful one, but a dream all the same, it was always the fucking same -

"You're a lucky guy."

Ian felt the body next to him move slightly. As if they were nodding.

No. Fucking. Way.

Ian's brain flew into overdrive. Had Mickey just admitted they'd come here together? Like together together? Surely he couldn't have, Mickey was so far in the closet he fucking preceded Narnia, he wouldn't just openly admit shit like that, it was too unbelievable, too -

The body next to him - Mickey fucking Milkovich his brain supplied for him - settled back down onto the mattress, a hand curling loosely around Ian's bicep. The were close. Impossibly close. Face to face; Ian could feel Mickeys breathing against his fucking cheek, and why the fuck did that turn him on? He realised then that Mickey's legs with tangled with his, one thigh pressed dangerously close to the region of his body where it seemed all his blood was now rushing too. Shit.

But. Well. Mickey had kissed him last night. Granted, he's pulled away when Ian tried to kiss him first, and that wait for Mickey to grow some balls and kiss him in public had been excruciating, but still. Mickey had done it. They'd only kissed a few times over the 3 years, each time Mickey had initiated it, taken control of it. 

So really, Mickey couldn't be that adverse to kissing him, could he? He'd came and taken him home from that club, he let him sleep in his bed, he'd came to the Gallagher's to see him, given him a blowjob AND stayed over. That had to mean something, right?

It was time for Ian to be a big boy and take a leap of faith. For Mickey Milkovich. Once a fucking gain. Shit.

Ian opened his eyes for the third time slowly, letting the sunlight filter through his lids; blurry vision slowly focusing. And what a fucking sight it was. No less than three inches away from his face was Mickey, looking rested and peaceful in way that only sleep could make him. Ian had only witnessed Mickey sleep a few times - he'd forgotten what he looked like.

The more Ian stared at Mickey's sleeping form, the closer Ian's brain inched towards writing fucking love sonnets were Ian would compare Mickey to a fucking summers day or some gay shit like that. So Ian did the only mature thing possible in that situation and poked Mickey. Hard. In the chest.

Mickey startled awake, disorientated and confused, before glancing at Ian and slowly laying back down.

"Gallagher, you asshole, what the fuck was that for?"

"Mornin' Mick" Ian grinned, taking in Mickey's confused expression before noticing Mickey's hand. It was still wrapped around his bicep. Mickey was awake, albeit barely, but he hadn't tried to pull away. That had to be a good sign.

"Don't fucking smile at me you bastard" Mickey spat out, but no real heat was behind the insults "where the fuck did everyone go?"

"Brian took everyone out for breakfast, apparently he's not the best chef. I was too hungover to even acknowledge him, though" Ian smiled as Mickey glanced around the empty room at his words, realising, like Ian had done, that they were alone. 

Ian slowly moved even closer to Mickey, eyes wild like a Lion stalking it's prey. Mickey had the audacity to smirk at that.

"So", Ian started, "I heard what you said to Brian this morning"

"I don't know what the fuck you're talkng about" Mickey chewed on his lip. 

"About you. And me."

Mickey just stared, still chewing that lip of his. Ian just wanted to take it into his mouth and suck on it and -

Not the time for that, Ian reminded himself. 

He sighed at Mickey, exasperated.

"What you said to Brain this morning. About us. Being together. Did you mean it?"

"I-I-you- Fuck Gallagher..." Mickey trailed off.

"Mick, did you fucking mean it?!" Ian growled, hands fisting the front of Mickey's shirt, faces mere centimetres apart.

"I-I-well" Mickey began, his face becoming more guarded. Ian stared for a moment, his face slowly growing more warily, then began to move away from Mickey; defeated.

Mickey threw the arm not already holding onto Ian around his back, gripping him tightly and pulling him even closer than before, so close that his forehead rested against Ian's as he sighed and began to speak.

"Fuck it. Fucking fuck it. Yeah, I said it Gallagher. You got a fucking problem with that?"

Ian positively beamed. "Will you say it again?"

"Don't push your fucking luck, firecrotch" Mickey spoke softer than before, though, sounding damn near affectionate. 

"PLEASE, Mick. Just once, for me. Just once" Ian begged, starring directly into Mickey's eyes. The little shit knew what that did to him.

Mickey looked away, breaking eye contact and staring down at where Ian's hands dug into his shirt, as if they held the key to all of life's unanswerable questions.

"We're fucking together" he mumbled.

Ian laughed, removing his hands from Mickey's shirt and gripped his face, tilting his head up slightly 'til they regained eye contact.

"That's all I ever wanted to fucking hear" Ian said, then surged towards Mickey, catching his lips in a biting kiss, mouths opening and tongues instantly sliding together dirtily, constantly battling for dominance. 

After confessions of - let's face it - love, most couples would share sweet, chaste kisses. But not Ian and Mickey. Never Ian and Mickey. Their relationship strived on their passion for each other, that need that could never quite be quenched. Mickey didn't have time for that gay chaste shit. He wanted to devour Ian, wanted to lose himself to the feeling of someone - someone who cared just as much as he did - lose himself completely. And he would. Because he knew, no matter how many times he lost himself, Ian would always drag him back, just like he would for Ian.


End file.
